


Darcy's Superior Ranking of All Things Fall

by Triangulum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Author Loves Pumpkin Spice and Will Not Apologize, Autumn, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Sex, YouTuber Darcy Lewis, triple agent brock rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: Darcy is in the zone. She’s transcribing Jane’s notes and has been in a groove for the last few hours. Her headphones are in, her head is bopping, and her toe is tapping. So when someone sets a Starbucks cup in front of her out of nowhere, she thinks it’s fair that she maybe shrieks. Just a tiny bit.Darcy pulls her headphones off, looking up into the smirking face of Brock Rumlow, STRIKE commander and former triple agent. She looks down at the cup in front of her, turning it to see the order written on the side. Grande pumpkin spice chai, two pumps of pumpkin sauce. She blinks and looks back up with her eyebrows raised.“STRIKE Alpha is heading to Europe tonight,” he says. “Not sure when we’ll be back. You okay to water Lucy?”“Yeah, of course, just bring her by before you leave,” Darcy says, looking back at the drink. “Did I tell you my order?”“Nope,” he says before turning and leaving the lab, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he goes.ORDarcy has a YouTube channel talking about all things fall, and she thinks Rumlow might be watching?
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 160
Kudos: 529





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I wasn't going to start another WIP...yet here I am.

“Hi everyone! It’s officially fall! If you’ve been subscribed to my channel for a while, you’ll know I like to do a sort of ‘best of’ the season type of thing. So the first episode of the fall will be dedicated to fall drinks. Love it or hate it, Starbucks’ pumpkin spice is the most common you’ll run into, at least in the US. The top drinks you guys submitted were the pumpkin spice latte, apple cider, and spiced hot chocolate.

“Unfortunately, you’re all WRONG! The correct answer is pumpkin spice chai. You can hate Starbs all you want but it’s a twist on a classic drink that you can find anywhere since Starbucks is everywhere. Plus a lot of small coffee shops have their own version of a pumpkin chai so you’re not just forking over money to Howard Schultz. If you are going to Starbucks, I suggest asking for half of the usual pumpkin sauce, otherwise it tastes like you’re drinking concentrate.

“Okay! On to the fall alcoholic drinks…”

Darcy finishes up editing her most recent video, ready to post it to her YouTube channel tomorrow. She’d first gone viral a year and a half ago, when she’d taken a video of her, Jane, and Thor at a zoo, Thor with a dozen budgies perched all over his head and shoulders. One even was sitting on Mjölnir. SHIELD hadn’t been thrilled, but by then they were employed under Tony Stark, so they couldn’t really do shit about it. Tony, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious and humanized Thor for the people who could only see him as a big alien god, and told her to go for it as long as there was no compromising information in her videos. Good, because she hadn’t been planning on deleting her YouTube channel.

“Darcy! It’s starting!” Jane calls from the living room.

“Fuck yeah,” Darcy says, making sure everything is saved before running out of her room, socks sliding on the hardwood floor as she gets to the living room.

“Hot chocolate,” Thor says, passing her her favorite Halloween Snoopy mug as she settles onto her squishy chair next to the sofa holding Thor and Jane.

“Thank you!” Darcy says, curling up in her chair. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“Always,” Jane says, pressing play on the remote. The opening of _It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ plays, making her grin. Darcy snuggles on down with her hot chocolate and her favorite blanket, feeling cozy and happy as they do their yearly Charlie Brown viewing.

* * *

Darcy is in the zone. She’s transcribing Jane’s notes and has been in a groove for the last few hours. Her headphones are in, her head is bopping, and her toe is tapping. So when someone sets a Starbucks cup in front of her out of nowhere, she thinks it’s fair that she maybe shrieks. Just a tiny bit. 

Darcy pulls her headphones off, looking up into the smirking face of Brock Rumlow, STRIKE commander and former triple agent. She looks down at the cup in front of her, turning it to see the order written on the side. Grande pumpkin spice chai, two pumps of pumpkin sauce. She blinks and looks back up with her eyebrows raised.

“STRIKE Alpha is heading to Europe tonight,” he says. “Not sure when we’ll be back. You okay to water Lucy?”

“Yeah, of course, just bring her by before you leave,” Darcy says, looking back at the drink. “Did I tell you my order?”

“Nope,” he says before turning and leaving the lab, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he goes.

“Huh…”

“What?” Jane asks, coming over and taking a sip of Darcy’s chai.

Darcy gasps, grabbing her cup. “How dare you!”

Jane just grins and hands her another notebook.

Darcy really likes that they work for Tony now. Jane’s been much more relaxed, no longer afraid SHIELD will turn up at any second and ruin all their years of work. And a relaxed Jane turns out to be a productive Jane. They’ve gotten more done in the six months they’ve been working for Stark Industries than in the previous two years. They’d gotten a little nervous when SHIELD rented out a few floors in Stark Tower, but they’d just moved some of their scientists to collaborate with Stark’s and a STRIKE team to deter AIM or anyone else from getting any ideas.

Turns out the STRIKE guys aren’t that awful, despite looking terrifying. And there are _two_ women on the team! Which isn’t a lot, but much better than Darcy had expected from macho, boys club SHIELD. Despite agents like Natasha Romanoff and Melinda May and Sharon Carter, sexism is still alive and well. And STRIKE agents Hollis and Rhodes are ready to kick anyone in the teeth who refers to them as ‘the STRIKE ladies’ again.

Darcy and Jane rarely watch Avengers team training, but they make an exception when Thor wants to show off a little or if Jane is especially blocked. The first time she’d really met Rumlow had been both. Jane was still settling into her lab and hadn’t been ‘thinking smart thoughts’ and Thor had been wanting Jane to see the new training area Tony had set up on one of the Avengers floors. It really was impressive, at least to Darcy’s limited gym-related knowledge. The entire floor of the tower was sectioned off into different training and workout areas. Thor had them in a corner that’s just covered in mats, for fake fighting (“It’s _sparring_ , Darcy!”) that had a pretty clear view of the rest of the floor.

Thor had been fake fighting ( _sparring_ ) with Steve (still felt weird to call him that) when Rumlow and his second in command, Rollins, walked in, heading to the free weights section nearby. Darcy couldn’t help how her eyes had followed them. They’re hot, all right? She hadn’t been expecting Thor to send her a sly look before calling them over. 

“I’m taking a break,” Thor said to Rumlow and Rollins, motioning toward Steve. “If either of you want to tap in.”

They’d both shrugged in agreement, Rollins squaring up against Steve, Rumlow coming to stand next to where Darcy and Jane were sitting on top of a tall pile of mats. At this height, they were close to the same height as Rumlow.

“Not to be an ass,” Darcy said. “But how do you fake fight -”

“It’s _sparring!_ ” Thor said.

“ - Steve without getting a hole punched through you?” Darcy finished, ignoring Thor’s interruption.

Luckily, Rumlow looked amused instead of offended. “We were given the HYDRA attempt at the super serum,” he said. “We’re not quite as strong as Steve, but we’re not exactly helpless.”

“Well that’s handy as hell,” Darcy said. 

“I’m not exactly complaining,” he said with a grin. He glanced down at her socks, visible because she’d kicked off her shoes to sit cross-legged on top of the mats. “I like the plant socks.”

Darcy looked down at her feet. They were socks Thor and Jane bought for her with monstera leaves all over.

“Thanks,” Darcy said. “I may have gone overboard on plants when my ex and I broke up. And now I’m a crazy plant lady.”

She had immediately wanted to smack herself because who talks about breakups when they first meet someone, but Rumlow had just snorted. 

“My sister keeps sneaking plants into my house,” he said. “She somehow bribed Jack to bring one in and put it on my desk.”

“And I’d do it again, mate!” Rollins said from the mat, rolling to his feet quickly after Steve had thrown him. 

“Did you keep it?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. “Lucy is an African violet and lives on my office windowsill.” 

Darcy had snorted a laugh, and a weird friendship was born. And she became his official plant-sitter whenever STRIKE has to go anywhere for more than a week.

A few hours after he’d brought her the chai tea latte, Rumlow’s back with Lucy the African violet. It’s blooming, bright purple flowers looking very healthy. Darcy sets it on the shelf nearest the window, far away from where elbows might hit it. 

“Thanks again,” Rumlow says. “We don’t know for sure we’ll be gone for a while, but I’d rather it not shrivel and die just in case.”

“No problem,” Darcy says. “I’m feeding and watering Jane anyway. It’s easy to add a well-behaved plant.”

Rumlow snorts, shaking his head. “See you when we’re back. I’ll try and bring one of those tacky airport snowglobes you like.”

“You say tacky like it’s a bad thing,” Darcy says. 

“I know better than to argue with Lucy’s temporary guardian,” Rumlow says. “Don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone.”

“I can make you no promises.”

“I swear you’re gonna put me in an early grave, Lewis,” he says.

“I think you constantly jumping out of planes is probably more likely to do that,” Darcy says.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Rumlow says. “Bye, Jane!”

“Bye!” she calls back, not looking away from her whiteboard. Rumlow gives Darcy a mock salute before leaving. Jane turns to her once Rumlow’s gone, giving her an eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh shut up,” Darcy says, unable to stop her face from heating. “No innuendos or bad jokes from you!”

“I can make you no promises,” Jane says, throwing her own words back at her.

“I have the worst friends.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I honestly didn’t expect the candle discourse to be so intense, but I probably should have. Thank you to everyone who refrained from screaming at each other in the comments, and if you _did_ shout at someone...dude, they’re just candles, take a look at your priorities.

“So, candles! I’m not actually going to talk about scents, because they vary from company to company. All pumpkin candles are _not_ created equal. We’re talking brands instead! I’m gonna say it...Yankee Candles are overblown! I said what I said! Look, they’re fine. But I’m not paying thirty fucking dollars for a candle that’s just ‘fine’. Same with Bath and Body Works. They’re worth it if they do their buy two, get two free sales or whatever, but you’re still spending like $50 on candles that are fine.

“My favorite is the Boulangerie pumpkin souffle candle. It’s $18 so it’s not exactly cheap, but the scent radius is baller. That one candle fills my entire two-bedroom apartment in no time. It can be strong so not burning for an extended time, especially in a small space like a bathroom, is definitely best.

“That being said, candles from places like Ross and Homegoods are like $5. You’ll probably have to experiment with brands to sort through the stinkers. There are a lot that smell great but when you light it, you can’t smell it unless your nose is basically in the flame. Buy a few cheap ones to see which has the best range. So, give shops like that a try if you’re on a budget. Also look locally if there are any candlemakers near you that have festive scents. And stop screaming at each other about if vanilla or lavender is the best candle. I refuse to moderate that.”

* * *

Darcy really hadn’t expected the Great Candle Wars to break out in her comments section. She personally isn’t a fan of lavender, it’s just a bit too strong of a scent for her, but no way in hell was she wading into _that_ particular debate. Who knew candle enthusiasts could be so cutthroat?

It’s been a week and a half since Rumlow and STRIKE left and Darcy’s been dutifully keeping an eye on Lucy. Surprisingly, Rumlow’s a good plant dad (and the expression on his face is _amazing_ if you tell him that). He left a sticky note with the last time he watered the violet, plus the last time he fertilized and pruned a yellow leaf. It’s adorable, honestly. 

It’s a Thursday when she gets a text from Rumlow.

_Rumblin’ Rumlow: We’re heading back now. Probably won’t make it in until late._

Darcy pauses her email to an astrophysicist asking for a consultation with Jane to text him back.

**No broken bones? Not going to be dripping blood all over my lab again?**

_Rumblin’ Rumlow: No broken bones for me, and it was just two drops of blood last time._

Darcy snorts. **Does that mean broken bones for Rollins?**

_Rumblin’ Rumlow: Surprisingly no, though he has some scratches for an overly enthusiastic cat._

**I genuinely can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.**

_Rumblin’ Rumlow: I’m actually not. I’ll bring him with me when I pick up Lucy tomorrow and show you_

Darcy grins. **We won’t be in until after 10, just fyi. We’ll probably be here until midnight so we’re taking a late start tomorrow.**

_Rumblin’ Rumlow: 10-4. Gotta start debriefs and paperwork, see you tomorrow._

**See you. Glad you’re safe.**

The next day is, uh, not great. It’s problem after problem after problem. Computers throughout the tower keep crashing in what Tony is saying is a botched cyber attack. All the important parts of their research is kept on external harddrives anyway, but it’s still obnoxious. Then there’s a brief fire in a lab on their floor. It’s not even near them and Dr. Collins put it out in like ten seconds, but they still had to evacuate into the chilly street until it was cleared. Then someone in R&D does something that makes the entire building’s power shut off for an hour. Darcy just wants to nap and pretend no one else exists, but she still has half a day of work left. A whole half a day for things to get even worse.

She and Jane are making...some progress? They both can’t really relax, expecting something to go wrong at any second. The fridge in the corner makes a weird noise briefly, and they immediately look at each other. There’s a loud thud from the floor above them and they both flinch, waiting for the inevitable crash through their ceiling. They’re both so on edge that when a bird bounces off the window in front of Darcy’s desk, she actually shrieks and jumps backwards. 

“Whoa,” Rumlow says, walking in with Rollins. He has a backpack hanging off one shoulder and they’re both looking a little concerned about her shriek. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Darcy says with a sigh, hand over her racing heart. “It has been a _day_ and I want to deal with absolutely nothing right now.”

“Honestly, same,” Jane says, turning her desk chair so she’s facing the three of them. “And that’s coming from _me_.”

Darcy looks back to Rumlow and Rollins, gesturing to Jane. “See? Even Jane!”

“What happened?” Rumlow asks.

“Network fuckups all day, evacuation because of the fire down the hall, then the power outage,” Darcy says. “At this point I’m expecting the floor to literally just disintegrate under us.”

“God, don’t say that,” Jane says. 

“Maybe you guys should go home?” Rollins suggests. “It’s not like you’re going to get much done.”

Jane bites her lip, looking like she’s actually considering it, when the chemical contaminant alert goes off, locking down all lab levels. There’s a loud clunk as their lab door seals shut.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Jane says.

“Jane’s really mad when she uses the f-word,” Darcy says to Rumlow and Rollins out of the corner of her mouth.

“As soon as the lockdown is lifted, we’re leaving. I don’t even care. We’re going. We’re getting pizza, or, or ice cream, or, I don’t know, throwing a pumpkin at god,” Jane says. Rollins’ eyebrows fly up and Rumlow purses his lips like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Why don’t we aim for pumpkin ice cream and make a final decision on fighting god later,” Darcy says.

“Fine,” Jane says, picking up her phone.

“No calling Thor to break the window and fly you away!” Darcy says, pointing at her.

Jane glares, but sets down her phone. “Fine,” she says, a bit sullenly. “What if I have him take you too?”

“Tempting, but no,” Darcy says. 

Rollins and Rumlow are looking between them, both looking highly amused. 

“JARVIS,” Jane says, “is there actually an emergency?”

“There was a minor incident in Dr. Okamoto’s lab. It’s nearly finished being cleaned,” JARVIS replies.

“How long do you estimate?” Darcy asks.

There’s a click from the lab door, signalling the lockdown was lifted. Jane doesn’t hesitate. She grabs her bag and rushes out, yelling, “Text you later!” over her shoulder. 

Rumlow and Rollins look back at Darcy. 

“It’s been...a shitty day,” Darcy says.

“We can cheer you up with cat scratches,” Rollins says, lifting up his shirt. Besides an impressive set of abs, he has an alarming amount of scratches on his torso.

“What the hell happened?” Darcy asks incredulously. 

“What I’m allowed to tell you is a cat really didn’t want Jack near him,” Rumlow says.

“What he’s leaving out is someone _threw_ a cat at me,” Rollins says.

“What?!” Darcy asks. “Please tell me you didn’t leave the cat with them!”

“Of course we didn’t, we’re not monsters,” Rumlow said. “It was a stray and after it finished going after Jack’s kidneys it ran off, right as rain.”

“I genuinely have no idea what to say to that,” Darcy says. “I’m glad you didn’t break your collarbone again?”

“God, so am I,” Rollins says. 

JARVIS interrupts them then, saying, “Commander Rumlow, your presence has been requested by Maria Hill.”

Rumlow sighs. “I swear if it’s another goddamn form…”

“That’s what you get for moving up the ranks,” Rollins says, clapping him on the back. “Bureaucracy.”

“I take back everything nice I ever said about you,” Rumlow says. “Cody’s now my favorite.”

“Sure,” Rollins says.

“Deputy Director Hill was quite insistent,” JARVIS says.

“Yeah, fine, tell her I’m on my way,” Rumlow says. He takes the backpack off his shoulder, rooting around in it and pulling out a horribly tacky snowglobe with what looks like a baby peeing into a fountain. “Thought this was up your alley.”

“Hope you like it. He dragged me to three tourist trap shops to find a ‘good one’,” Rollins says. Rumlow elbows him in the side.

Darcy takes it with glee. “That is awful, I love it,” she says, grinning. “Thank you. I’ll put it next to the one of the seagull shitting on someone from San Francisco.”

Rumlow snorts, shaking his head. He reaches out for Lucy the violet on Darcy’s desk. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it,” Rumlow says, booping her on the nose with his free hand, snorting when it makes her scrunch up her nose.

“Anytime,” Darcy says. “Sorry about your cat scratches, Rollins.”

“I bought a big tube of Neosporin,” Rollins says, giving her a cheery salute. 

Rumlow waves as they leave, leaving Darcy alone in the lab. And no way in hell is she staying. She grabs her bag from her desk drawer and reaches for her keys on the top of her desk and sees a candle right where Lucy the violet used to be. She picks it up and it’s a Boulangerie pumpkin souffle candle. How the hell did he put it there without her noticing? More importantly how the hell did he know that was her favorite?

The only answer she can think of is he’s watched videos she posted on her YouTube channel. No, that’s ridiculous, Rumlow isn’t the type to YouTube surf. He can’t be watching...can he? How else would he know about the candle and her drink order? No...no, that’s ridiculous, there’s no way. It could be a coincidence. He’s smart and special forces, he could have figured it out. He can’t be watching, he has important things to do that don’t include watching random YouTube videos.

Oh god he’s totally watching. What if he’s subscribed? She pulls up the YouTube app on her phone and starts to scroll through subscriber names and oh Jesus there are so many of them. There are way too many names here for her to guess. 

Shit.


	3. Chapter 3

“Candy corn is delicious, you’re all just mean. And I will stand by that! Give me those little candy corn pumpkins and I’m in Halloween heaven. Look, there’s not much on the candy list I’m going to talk badly about. Candy is just good whoever you are. That being said, those different flavored Tootsie Rolls are amazing. Also mini M&Ms! And Gobstones! And look, the Reese’s pumpkins are the perfect ratio of chocolate to peanut butter. 

“All Halloween candy is valid. I will take no criticism here. We can all benefit from candy.”

* * *

Darcy almost posted this week’s video late because she kept fucking up filming thinking about Rumlow. She had panicked initially at the idea of him watching her videos, before she’d gone home, had a big drink, and thought it through. It’s not actually that weird, she tries to tell herself. It’s not like it’s a secret she’s on YouTube. SHIELD knows, Tony knows, a whole bunch of Thor fans know. It’s not like she’s wearing a mask on OnlyFans and he tracked her down like a weirdo. 

And she stands by all her content. She ranks things, shows Thor with birds, has her and Jane blowing something up in the lab. There’s not a thing on her channel that she’s embarrassed about. So after a strange, world-tilting revelation, the world tilts back as she decides she doesn’t give a fuck. So, there.

The day after she posts the video about Halloween candy, Rumlow drops by the lab with a big bag of Reese’s pumpkins, setting them down in front of her and turning, leaning his butt against the edge of her desk. She doesn’t even hesitate, ripping open the package and pulling out a peanut butter pumpkin.

“You watch my YouTube stuff, don’t you?” she asks, taking a bite out of the pumpkin. 

He shrugs and says, “Maybe.”

“Okay, so that means yes,” she says. “I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or not, but I’m leaning toward not.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed with me,” Rumlow says with a shrug. “You saw Romanoff paint my face like a cat when I was knocked out.”

Darcy grins. “Yeah, that’s very true.”

Rumlow snorts and shakes his head. “You two need to stop teaming up,” he says. “Actually, I need to ask a favor.”

“Oh, so these are bribery peanut butter pumpkins,” she says. “That’s fine, I can be bought.”

“Don’t let anyone from SHIELD hear you say that,” Rumlow says, in what she thinks is a half-teasing voice.

“You’re from SHIELD,” she points out.

“Yeah, but I’d never turn you in for taking candy bribes. Lopez in cybersecurity though…”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s still mad at me for the whole shoe glue thing,” Darcy says. “What’s your favor?”

“I kind of promised my sister I’d take her kids to the pumpkin patch this weekend. I’m, uh, not great at the fall spirit stuff,” he says a bit sheepishly. “I was wondering if you’d come? Pick pumpkins, do the corn maze, help make my nieces’ day better?”

“Yeah, of course,” Darcy says, startled but pleased. “What, am I going to say no to fall activities? Or seeing Commander Rumlow with small children?”

“You can call me Brock, you know,” he says. “Especially because Stella and Alessia will never stop teasing me if they hear you call me Commander Rumlow.”

Darcy grins slowly. “Brock Rumlow, do your nieces have you wrapped around their little fingers?”

“God, extremely,” he says with a dramatic sigh that Darcy knows he doesn’t mean.

“All right, I’m in, but on the condition you do not ditch me in a corn maze,” she says. “I have no sense of direction, will never make it out, and will never forgive you when I die in there and they find my bones.”

“I wouldn’t let you die, corn maze or not,” he says. “I promise not to ditch you in the corn maze.”

“Solid deal,” she says.

Brock says he’ll pick her up Saturday at 10:30 (“In the _morning_?”) and she immediately starts planning. She already has a bunch of fall and Halloween stuff at her apartment and she’s not above bribing kids to like her. She puts together a couple of goodie bags, each with a headband with sparkling pumpkins on springs on top, a candy necklace, a couple Twix shaped like ghosts, and a necklace with light up plastic jack-o'-lanterns on it.

Brock arrives a little before 10:30, but that’s fine, Darcy’s ready. She grabs the bags (Halloween reusable totes) and heads downstairs. Brock’s in an SUV idling in a miraculously empty spot in front of her building. He’d been surprised she hadn’t taken Tony up on his invitation for an apartment at the tower, but she likes some separation with her work and home life. She and Jane already spend most of their time together, which she loves, but she needs a space that’s just hers. 

Brock hands her a pumpkin spice chai as soon as she slides into the passenger seat (she’s not above being bribed either) and introduces her to his nieces.

“Thank you,” she says, grinning.

“Darcy, these are my nieces, Stella and Alessia,” Brock says, pointing to each of them in turn. They look _very_ similar, both with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes, Alessia is just a bit taller at 10 years old, and eight-year-old Stella has a sprinkling of freckles over her nose. Darcy waves at them and they wave back, grinning. Stella is missing her two front bottom teeth. “Stella, Alessia, this is Darcy. I work with her.”

“Are you a superhero?” Stella asks.

Alessia elbows her. “We’re aren’t supposed to know about that!” she hisses. 

Brock sighs. “My sister accidentally let them hear that I work at the tower,” he says, putting on his signal and merging back in with traffic. Darcy laughs.

“No, I’m not a superhero. I work with a super smart lady though who is making a window into space!” Darcy says. She’s found that’s the best way to make kids stoked about her work.

“Really?” Alessia asks. 

“Really!” Darcy says. “Do you like space?”

“They love space,” Brock says at the same time Alessia and Stella yell, “Yes!” 

“I did a report on the moon!” Alessia says proudly.

“I have an astronaut playset!” Stella says.

“Our mom bought us space Barbies!”

“Space Barbies? Well that sounds awesome, I need to get one of those,” Darcy says. “I actually brought something if you guys like Halloween and candy?”

“We love candy!” Stella shouts. 

Brock winces at the volume. “Inside voices, remember,” Brock says.

“Mom says we have to talk loudly because your old man ears don’t hear well,” Alessia says matter-of-factly.

Brock groans. “Yes, they like Halloween and candy,” Brock says. “And I need to have a talk with Teresa.”

Darcy snorts and passes the bags back to the girls, who squeal with excitement before thanking her. That’ll distract them for a bit, Darcy figures. There are closer pumpkin patches, but Brock insists that the one his family has gone to for decades farther outside the city is much better, so they’re in for a bit of a drive depending on how many people are out on Saturday morning. 

Alessia and Stella both end up with their headbands and flashing necklaces on, chatting happily in the backseat. Brock looks over at her at a stop light, smiling slightly.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he says, though he’s still smiling when he turns back to the road. 

“You never smile at nothing,” Darcy says. 

Brock shrugged. “They like you,” he says, nodding towards the back of the SUV where Stella and Alessia are chatting about the kinds of pumpkins they want to find.

“You are _goo_ in the face of your nieces!” Darcy says. “That’s adorable.”

“I refuse to comment on that,” Rumlow says, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Alessia, do _not_ put candy in Stella’s hair.”

Alessia pouts but slowly puts her candy necklace on her own wrist instead of her sister’s head. Darcy manages to hold in a laugh.

Darcy grew up in a small town in Delaware, so she’s used to all kinds of farms, and especially, pumpkin patches. So she’s pleasantly surprised that Brock was right; this pumpkin patch outside the city really is the real deal. Stella and Alessia are nearly bouncing on their seats in excitement. There are a good deal of cars already and Darcy can tell Brock wants to swear at other drivers but is managing to keep a lid on it in front of the girls. 

“Son of a...biscuit,” he says when a car backs up with their backup lights out. Alessia and Stella giggle. 

“Those darn biscuits,” Darcy says, making them giggle louder. 

Brock shakes his head, but Darcy can see the curve of his lips. They find a parking spot and Brock lays down the ground rules. 

“Okay, first, no running off alone. You have me or Darcy with you at all times, yes?” Brock says, waiting for them to answer. “Good. Second, please don’t eat anything off the ground. We don’t need another incident like at the stadium.”

“That was _years_ ago!” Alessia says. 

“Third,” he says, ignoring her, “We have to remember to get your mom a big, ugly pumpkin.”

Alessia and Stella laugh, each grabbing one of his hands and tugging him toward the entrance. Alessia takes Darcy’s hand in her free one, pulling her along with them.

“I like ugly pumpkins,” Darcy says. “The lopsided ones with little bumps everywhere? Love them.”

“Is that why you get along with me?” Brock teases.

“You aren’t an ugly pumpkin!” Stella says sternly. “Mom says we need to say positive things about ourselves or else we’ll believe bad things.”

“Your mom’s definitely right,” Darcy says, grinning at Brock. “Say something nice about yourself.”

“Should have known you’d conspire against me,” Brock mutters. “Fine, I have nice hair.”

“That you do,” Darcy says.

Brock gets a big wheelbarrow from the front of the pumpkin patch before they go in, Stella and Alessia bouncing with excitement on either side of him. They go up and down the paths, Stella and Alessia making very careful pumpkin choices. Alessia manages to find a large, perfectly round pumpkin, perfect for carving, while Stella picks a lopsided, lumpy pumpkin. Brock also has them pick out some smaller pumpkins and choose one for his apartment.

“It has to be huge!” Stella says.

“Why’s that?” Brock asks.

“Because you’re tall!” Alessia says. “So you need a matching pumpkin.”

“What about that one?” Darcy asks, pointing at a strangely oblong pumpkin about the size of a traffic cone. 

“Yes! It’s so weird!” Stella says. 

The pumpkin is too big for Stella and Alessia to pick up, so Darcy carefully sets it in the wheelbarrow Brock’s pushing, making sure not to squish the other pumpkins in there.

There’s an area with big bins with all the tiny pumpkins, small pumpkins, and assorted gourds. Darcy gasps, doing exactly what Brock told the girls not to do, darting away from the group. She comes back with a lumpy, light orange pumpkin, and a large smile. 

“It’s called a Cinderella pumpkin and I love them!” she says.

Of course then, Stella and Alessia needed a Cinderella pumpkin too. They also put a few tiny pumpkins in the wheelbarrow for inside decoration. Darcy snorts at a green bumpy gourd in the shape of a penis and holds it up over the girls’ heads to show Brock. She’s grinning broadly, trying not to laugh when he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, pretending he doesn’t think it’s funny. She puts it into the wheelbarrow, and he takes it out, setting it back on the pile.

“I will throw this gourd at you,” she threatens.

“I will not put a penis gourd on my desk at work,” he says. 

“Who said it’s for you?” Darcy says. “Jane and Thor will find it hil-ar-i-ous.” 

Brock snorts, shaking his head. “You people on the science floors are odd ducks,” he says.

“Ducks are cool, mister,” Darcy says, setting the penis gourd back in the wheelbarrow. 

Stella and Alessia are, thankfully, not interested in the corn maze. Darcy saw Children of the Corn way too young and it left an impression. They do want to do pictures and a hay ride though, and she’s just fine with that. They pose with Brock in front of the photo set up, a few big fake pumpkins to sit on with a painted wooden backdrop, while Darcy takes their pictures. And you see, she has never wanted kids, but if she did, her ovaries would be exploding right now. 

As it is, she’s struggling to rein in her desire to grin like a lunatic and coo. It’s completely unfair that he’s this hot _and_ a loving family man. Absolutely ridiculous. 

After they pay for their pumpkins, Brock loads them in the trunk of the SUV, then meets back up with them in line for the hayride. Alessia and Stella are both holding one of the mini pumpkins, and they’re both still wearing their sparkly pumpkin headbands and light-up jack-o'-lantern necklaces. When they climb onto the hay trailer behind the tractor with the other people waiting, Alessia makes sure she sits with Darcy on one side and Brock on the other. Stella, getting a little tired, sits in Brock’s lap. 

Darcy was kind of expecting Brock to be uncomfortable or look a bit out of his element, but he looks perfectly at ease sitting on a bale of hay, Stella’s eyelids getting heavy as she sits in his lap. Darcy hasn’t seen him in almost anything other than his STRIKE uniform or the more relaxed black t-shirt and pants, but he’s in dark wash jeans, a navy blue shirt and a dark brown jacket, looking perfectly comfortable. He’s wearing the same boots as always though.

Alessia is happy to look around at the pumpkin patch, the corn, and Halloween decorations they drive by, and Darcy is feeling nostalgic for when she used to do this with her grandpa and grandma. She smiles at the scarecrow towards the end of the hayride, nearly identical to the one her grandma was so proud of. When she looks away, she sees Brock looking at her with a soft look on his face that she can’t quite decipher.

“What?” she asks.

Brock shrugs. “Want to get lunch after this?” he asks instead of answering.

“Spaghetti!” Alessia shouts between them. Darcy jumps, but Brock, more used to his nieces, doesn’t.

“I never say no to Italian,” Darcy says.

Brock raises a suggestive eyebrow at her, making her roll her eyes. If his arms weren’t full of sleepy child, she’d have kicked him. Stella wakes up at Alessia’s shout and starts chanting, “Ra-vi-oli! Ra-vi-oli!”

“Shh,” Brock says. “Can’t shout next to people’s ears, kiddo.”

Stella switches to a whisper of, “Ra-vi-oli!” and Darcy just can’t hold in her laugh.

“I’m with you, ravioli sounds fantastic,” Darcy says. 

The tractor stops completely then, and Brock sets Stella down so they can all climb down. She and Alessia both chant ‘ravioli’ the entire way to the SUV. Italian after the pumpkin patch must be a tradition, because the girls are extremely excited when they pull into a small restaurant’s parking lot, already talking about what they’re going to order. 

They chatter through lunch, making sure Brock knows everything they’re learning in school, prompting Alessia to start explaining what she learned about gravity on the moon. Brock listens intently, nodding at all the right points, looking completely happy to be out with his nieces. It’s absolutely the sweetest thing Darcy’s ever seen next to Thor with the budgies. He glances up at her when Stella and Alessia pause to take a few bites, smiling softly, and she can’t help the swooping feeling in her stomach.

Alessia and Stella fall asleep in the car ride back, dropping Darcy back at her apartment before their game night (honestly, the nerve of the big, bad STRIKE dude to have a family game night). Darcy turns over her shoulder, seeing Alessia asleep next to Stella, who still is holding her tiny pumpkin.

“You absolutely didn’t need me,” Darcy says, turning back around. “You’re like a superhumanly great uncle. You had this in the bag.”

Brock shrugs. “I do all right,” he says.

“You are so bad at being modest, Brock Rumlow,” she says, making him laugh.

“Maybe, but you’re the queen of fall,” he says, glancing her way before turning his eyes back to the road. “It’s more fun with you.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she settles for, “Well, I’m a hoot.” He just grins at the road.

Traffic is forgiving so it doesn’t take too long for them to get back to her apartment. Alessia and Stella are still asleep, and Darcy doesn’t want to wake them up just to say goodbye. Brock helps her get her Cinderella pumpkin and penis gourd out of the trunk.

“I can carry it, you can stop looking so concerned,” she says.

“I’ve just seen you drop enough things…”

“I would _never_ drop my Cinderella pumpkin,” Darcy says.

“Uh huh,” Brock says, smirking. She’s getting the weird swooping in her stomach again. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me,” she replies, then grins. “You know you’ve ruined your tough guy image now, right? You can glower all you want at work but I’m just going to see Uncle Brock with a sparkling pumpkin headband on.”

“I’ll survive,” he says. “But I never glower at you.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, buddy,” she says, waving goodbye as she heads into her building. 

It’s not until she’s locking her apartment’s front door behind her, the pumpkin and gourd set down on her sideboard, that she finally lets herself acknowledge how completely fucking attracted she is to Brock Rumlow. She’d known he’s hot, she has eyeballs and when she wears glasses, they work, but she’s now seen who he is outside of work and she’s feeling _things_ that are very inconvenient. She lets her head thunk against the closed door. 

“A+ job, Lewis,” she mutters to the blue paint.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating has changed, FYI. We got smut, folks!

“Look, ideally you could go somewhere that has a pumpkin patch _and_ a corn maze, but let’s be real, we all know that if you have to choose, a pumpkin patch is far superior. Corn mazes are creepy and you all know it. They’re weird, you get lost, probably end up seeing the twins from the Shining, and you’ll probably die in there unless you have like, some commando with you who can tell what direction is east by the way the clouds move. I don’t know, I wasn’t a Girl Scout, obviously.

“The point is, pumpkin patch is where it’s at. Corn maze is where it’s at if you’re looking to be murdered.

“Moving on to movies! Look, I get that people like to marathon the _Saw_ movies or some shit on Halloween and I’m sure there are hundreds of blogs reccing that type of film. However, I hate horror and slasher fics. No shade to you if you like them, but the scantily clad, tits out ladies when the men are fully dressed in like jeans and a flannel? Fucking exhausting. Also, I don’t like being scared.

“For me, the staples are the _Nightmare Before Christmas, Hocus Pocus,_ and the _Addams Family_. Spooky, fun, and magic. The _Scary Movie_ series is good if you’re drunk as fuck and want to giggle. I don’t know if _It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ is considered a movie or a special, but I also watch that every year.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, everyone! Remember to get candy for trick-or-treaters, get your spooky playlists ready, and absolutely tag me in your Thor costumes. I want to see!”

* * *

Thor and Jane do love the penis gourd, just like Darcy had thought. Unfortunately, they also have a lot of opinions about her outing with Brock and his nieces.

“He invites you on a date-”

“It wasn’t a date, his nieces were there!” Darcy says, interrupting Jane.

“You have said a pumpkin patch is on your list of ideal date locations,” Thor says, munching on the meatballs Darcy had thrown in the crockpot. They’re at Jane’s for Sunday football. Thor gets a kick out of the Vikings.

“Yes, when both parties accept that it’s a date!” Darcy says. “This was hanging out with a coworker and his nieces!”

“Right,” Jane says, grinning. “He bought you pumpkins, lunch, _and_ brought you Reese’s pumpkins.”

“That’s basically an admission of love in the language of Darcy,” Thor says wisely.

“You’re both banned from this conversation,” Darcy says. “ _If_ something happens between us, then you can gloat and say you told me so or whatever.”

“Fine, we will,” Jane says, then thrusts her plate toward Darcy. “Now, meatball me.”

* * *

Tony is all for employees dressing up on Halloween, as long as your identity can still be confirmed to get into restricted areas. That’s fine with Darcy, she doesn’t feel like breaking out the face paint this year. Instead she’s dressed as a witch in purple and black, but not like a Party City witch. She’s thrifted and searched online to find every perfect piece. Her favorite is the hat, a deep purple witch hat that looks almost like a longer version of the Beauxbatons hats from Goblet of Fire. She found it on Etsy and honestly wishes she could wear it daily.

Jane is dressed as Tony Stark, complete with drawn on facial hair, both because it’s hilarious and because Tony was irritating her about expanding her lab team (“I don’t _want_ a swarm of people in here!”) and she wanted to irritate him right back. Darcy’s going to Jane and Thor’s place after work since they have half a nice little duplex in a neighborhood that gets tons of trick-or-treaters, not at all like Darcy’s building. Last year she had one. 

Darcy and Jane had decorated the doorway of the lab in copious amounts of crepe paper and hanging spiders, and watching Brock push his way through, a plastic spider bouncing off his face, is truly hilarious.

“The fact that you’re not dressed up isn’t shocking, but it is disappointing,” Darcy says. He’s in his usual casual STRIKE uniform.

“I can’t dress up,” Brock says. “Can you imagine if we got called out and we had to respond to a terrorist attack with Jack dressed like a dinosaur?”

Darcy grins. “Well, now I can,” she says.

Brock snorts, shaking his head. He takes in her outfit, from her pointy boots to her twisting witch hat, and a smile blooms across his face. Jane, on the other side of the lab, pointedly turns around and pretends to not be listening.

“You look great,” he says.

“Thank you,” Darcy says. “I’m living my inner truth.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Brock says, casually leaning against the wall next to her desk. “Do you want to live your truth at my place tonight?”

“Oh, your place, huh?” Darcy says with a grin, leaning back in her chair.

“Yeah,” Brock says. “Hand out candy to the neighborhood hooligans, watch some Halloween movies, have some dinner.”

“The fact that you’re calling anyone a hooligan makes you sound about 90 years old, just so you know,” Darcy says. “I’ll-”

“That’s a date!” Jane says, done pretending she isn’t listening and spinning around. She points sternly at Darcy. “That is a date, Darcy Elizabeth Lewis! I release you from our plans tonight!”

Brock looks over, highly amused, before looking back at Darcy. “She’s right. This is absolutely a date.”

“I’ll bring the wine,” Darcy says. “Though I’m warning you, it won’t be fancy.”

Brock smiles widely. “Do I look like a fancy kind of guy?” he asks. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Can’t wait,” Darcy says. He grins, heading back to the door, when she asks, “Can I paint your face like a skeleton?”

“I’ll consider it!” he calls back over his shoulder. 

Darcy grins after him, butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach. She turns back and sees Jane looking very smug, hands on her hips.

“Told you,” she sings. 

“You hush your mouth,” Darcy says. “You’re sure you don’t mind me bailing?”

“Nope, you have a hot date, don’t you dare come over,” Jane says. “I’ll kick you right out.”

* * *

Brock lives in a truly lovely brownstone in the Bronx. It’s already dark by the time her cab drops her off, but she can still tell the building is well-maintained. Darcy walks up the steps to Brock’s door, grinning at the pumpkin picked by his nieces sitting to the side. She knocks on his door, looking around at the kids already starting to mill around in costumes. She’d changed into more or less regular clothes, but she has her witch hat in her bag for when they hand out candy. She turns back when his door opens, heart thudding in her chest. 

Brock’s in jeans again, bare toes poking out underneath, and a tight black t-shirt (not as ridiculously tight as Steve’s, but tight enough to accent his, uh, everything. He smiles when he sees her, stepping aside so she can come in. She steps up close to him, kissing his cheek, before walking into his home. The foyer opens into an open living room, beyond which is a nice kitchen and peninsula. 

“This is gorgeous. And smells delicious,” she says as she unbuttons her coat. Brock steps in close behind her, slipping the coat from her shoulders to hang up. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. “Come on in.”

“Did you redo this yourself?” she asks, looking around. She’s no expert, but the charm of the original home is still very much everywhere, though it’s clear that major areas have been updated. 

“Some of it,” Brock says. “I didn’t mess with the kitchen or bathrooms. Too much time when I’m out of town too much.”

“Fair,” Darcy says, opening her bag and pulling out a bottle of wine. “As promised, a not fancy wine.”

“It’ll be perfect with my not fancy dinner,” Brock says, motioning for her to follow him to the kitchen. 

“I don’t know how much I believe that,” she says. “Jane and I lived on Pop-Tarts and Top Ramen for like two years, so anything is gourmet to me. And it smells like I walked into an Italian restaurant.”

“Well, it’s my ma’s baked ziti recipe,” Brock says. “So, you’re close.”

“God, I love pasta,” Darcy says, sitting on a barstool at the peninsula while he sets the wine in the chiller and checks on the ziti.

“I know,” Brock says. “I saw your mac and cheese video.”

“That was such a good time in my life,” Darcy says dreamily. She’d tried eight different mac and cheese recipes to rank which is best, then takeout from local restaurants too. She, Jane, and Thor ate like pasta kings. “Is that when you started watching my channel?”

“Yeah. Well, Jack’s been a follower for a while,” Brock says. Which, wow, minute to process that. “He showed me the mac and cheese video because he wanted me to up my game.”

That surprises a laugh out of her, making him grin. “Jack’s a mac and cheese fan?” she asks.

“For someone who works out as much as he does, he eats a surprising amount of carbs,” Brock says.

“Have you considered that’s why he works out so much?” Darcy asks. “So he can eat all the pasta he wants?”

“Very possible,” Brock says. “My ma made him his own pot of mac and cheese for his birthday last year.”

The timer beeps and Brock turns to pull the baked ziti from the oven. She thought it smelled good before but good lord, she’s starving and it smells like heaven.

“Need a hand?” she asks.

“If you wanna grab plates, they’re in the cupboard next to the sink,” Brock says as he sets the ziti pan on a trivet. 

Darcy walks by him, bumping his hip with her own (once she made sure his hands weren’t close enough to burn on the pan), and pulling out plates from the cupboard. There are already two deep blue placemats on Brock’s rich walnut kitchen table, so she sets the plates there before going back to silverware, glasses, and a trivet he points out to put the ziti on. Brock’s over less than a minute later with the ziti pan, then again with a bowl of salad.

“It is completely unfair how delicious this is,” Darcy says after she takes her first bite. “I’m never going to be able to eat frozen ziti ever again.”

“Good,” Brock says. “I’ve smelled that Lean Cuisine stuff in the breakroom and honey, you deserve real food.”

“It’s real food! It’s food that is at my level of cooking expertise,” she says.

“All right, well I’m going to teach you then,” he says. 

Darcy grins, taking a sip of wine. “Good luck with that.”

Darcy had worried it would be awkward. She’s been on dates with people she’s flirted with in the past, and once they got to actually talking, things had been uncomfortable or they’d found they really aren’t compatible beyond hitting on each other. Thankfully, that’s not what’s happening here. 

“I probably shouldn’t have scheduled a date at a time when the doorbell would be ringing every few minutes,” Brock says with a grimace, standing and heading to the front door. Darcy laughs, looking over at the door to see a kid dressed a tiger holding out a pillowcase, grinning wildly. 

“Still,” she says when he sits back down, “at least it’s for a good cause. And I get to look at your butt whenever you walk by.”

“You stare at my butt?” he asks, grinning as he sits back down in the chair across from her.

“Uh, yeah, duh,” Darcy says. “You spend way too much time in the gym to not know you have a great butt.”

Brock shrugs, completely unrepentant, and looks down at her empty plate. “You done? Do you want more?” he asks.

“I’m good,” she says, standing when he does. “Can I help with dishes?”

“Nope,” he says, taking her plate from her. “I’m gonna do them later. There’s a stack of Halloween movies on the coffee table if you want to pick one.”

Darcy meanders over to the living room while Brock brings the dishes to the sink, sitting on the couch in front of the stack of movies. There are probably ten in the stack, but the top four are the _Nightmare Before Christmas_ ; the _Addams Family_ ; _It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown_ ; and _Hocus Pocus_. 

“You’re really going all out on making sure to do things I like,” Darcy says loudly enough to carry to the kitchen.

“It’s not really hard, you’re very open,” he calls back.

“Do you have any strong opinions on any of these?” she calls.

“Nope,” Brock says from right behind her, making her jump.

“Jesus,” she says. “You’re going to startle me into a heart attack.”

He just shakes his head, smiling slightly. “No strong opinions. I haven’t seen most of them,” he says.

“All right, in that case, _Nightmare Before Christmas_ first,” she says. Brock plucks the DVD from her and gestures for her to sit down while he puts it in the player. He’s still messing with it when the doorbell rings. Darcy grins and gets up, shoving on her witch hat and running to the door.

“Trick or treat!” the crowd of kids says when she opens the door, holding the bucket of Brock’s candy.

“You all look great!” Darcy says, dropping candy into each of their bags. She gives the girl with a witch costume a high five and waves to the parents waiting by the sidewalk. 

“I like your hat!” the kid in the zebra costume says.

“Thank you, I like your stripes!” she answers. He looks delighted. 

When she comes back to the living room, Brock’s sitting on the couch with the DVD main menu pulled up. The only way she could describe the look he’s giving her is fond. 

“What?” she asks.

“You’re just cute,” he says with a shrug, then gestures her over. “So what’s this about? A skeleton?”

Darcy grins, settling on the couch next to him, ignoring subtlety and sliding up right next to him. He lifts his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Kind of,” she says. “The king of Halloween discovers Christmas.”

“So...it’s a Christmas movie?”

“It’s a Halloween and a Christmas movie,” Darcy says. “Which is really just perfect.”

“Okay,” Brock says, sounding skeptical. That’s fine, he’ll learn.

Darcy half watches the screen and half watches Brock’s face. His eyebrows steadily rise higher and higher on his forehead as they watch the intro song. 

“This is a movie for kids?” he asks.

“I mean, kind of?” she says. “Most of the fans tend to be teenagers and older, but I have friends whose kids love it.”

They end up having to pause it right after the song ends to give trick-or-treaters candy. Then again. And again. And again.

“I should probably just leave the candy bowl on the porch,” he says.

“I mean, you can, but kids will probably run off with it all in like five minutes,” she says.

“Then kids will see the empty bowl and know I’m out and not ring the doorbell,” he says.

Darcy snorts. “Up to you.”

“I’m doing it,” he says decisively. He’s gone for maybe thirty seconds before he’s back on the couch next to her, wrapping his arm around her and tugging her closer. “That should keep the rabid masses at bay.”

“Do you call your nieces rabid?” Darcy asks.

“At least once a week,” he says. “My sister thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Uh huh,” Darcy says, snuggling in closer before hitting play. 

They make it through _Nightmare Before Christmas_ (Brock can see the appeal) and the _Addams Family_ (“I want a nice spooky Victorian house.” “You aren’t going to find that in the middle of the city, sweetheart.”) before he kisses her. He kisses gently but confidently, his hand cradling her jaw. It’s over way too soon and Darcy already knows she’s going to need a lot more of that.

She’s never exactly been shy and she isn’t interested in changing that now. Fortune favors the bold, and all. She grips his arms and slides into his lap, straddling his strong thighs. He looks up at her with dark eyes, lips slightly parted, and fuck, she could get used to being looked at like that. 

Brock surges up, hand tangling in her hair at the base of her neck as he kisses her again. It’s still confident, but now he’s kissing her like he’s hungry for it. She’s not much better, one arm wrapped around him, the other hand bunched in the front of his shirt. She moves closer, chest pressing against him, gratified at how it makes his breath catch. Then she feels the hard ridge in his jeans pressing right against her center, and it’s her turn to gasp. 

Brock grins against her lips, one hand gripping her hip as he grinds against her. Another time, she might have been embarrassed about the whimper she lets out, but right now she just wants him to do it again. She rolls her hips, pressing harder against him, slipping her tongue into his mouth when he groans. 

Brock’s hands tighten on her, then suddenly she’s moving, her back hitting the couch a second before her mind realizes he’s flipped them so she’s lying on the couch with him over her. Look, she has a thing for consensual manhandling, she takes no responsibility for how it makes her heart race and her cunt throb. Brock grins like he knows that before kissing down her throat, slowly, lips lingering on her skin.

She runs her hands up his torso, under his shirt, because it’s a crime that he hasn’t taken it off yet. Brock gets the picture, pulling back just long enough to tug his shirt over his head while Darcy does the same, leaving her in the red, lacy bra she’d picked for tonight. Just in case. 

Brock curses under his breath, staring at her like she’s the best thing he’s seen, before dipping back down, nipping at her collarbone as he works his way down her body. He only stops briefly to undo her bra, murmuring, “This looks incredible on you, princess,” before his lips close around her hard, pebbled nipple. 

Darcy gasps, her back arching. Her breasts have always been sensitive and she’s getting even wetter, grinding down on the thigh he slots between her legs. He hums against her breast, pressing his thigh more firmly between hers, making her keen.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against her skin before switching to her other breast, sucking and nipping at her aching nipple until she’s breathless with need, almost ready to just ride his thigh to completion. He must be able to tell, because then he’s pulling back and hooking his fingers in the waistband of her pants. She lifts her hips, making it easier for him to drag them down her thighs and then off completely, tossing them somewhere over his shoulder. 

His palms are rough as he drags his hands up her legs, parting her soft thighs. She likes it, likes the contrast between them, likes that he’s callused and rugged from hard work. He seems to appreciate her softness, kissing and nipping his way up her inner thighs, biting harder when she pushes into it. He’s murmuring words of admiration against her skin, telling her how perfect she is, how long he’s ached to touch and taste her. 

Brock bites hard enough to leave a mark on her inner thigh before pressing a kiss to her mound. His finger is tracing the crotch of her panties, seemingly smug at how wet she is for him. When she tries to shimmy out of her panties, he bats her hand away, murmuring “Let me” before pulling them down himself. She’s absolutely soaked, her throbbing cunt slick with need. Brock groans, hands tightening on her thighs. She’s half-worried he’s just going to stare, but then he licks up her labia and she lets out a shaky breath.

He pulls one of her legs over his broad shoulder, giving him even more access to her, and she is so, so grateful his couch isn’t small. Then most thoughts fly from her mind as he presses his tongue against the side of her clit. She gasps, fingers tangling in his hair. He just hums against her, mouth and tongue exploring between her thighs. He’s by far the most thorough man she’s been with, searching for every little place that makes her gasp, every spot that makes wetness seep out of her.

Brock teases her opening with the tips of his fingers, his tongue fluttering against her clit. She whimpers, tilting her hips up as she begs for more. He obliges, gently sliding a thick finger into her, adding another when he finds her open enough. It’s a bit of a tight fit, but she loves it that way, loves the stretch. He crooks his fingers, searching for that spot inside her, and finding it faster than anyone she’s been with. He closes his lips around her clit, sucking lightly as he presses against her g-spot. 

Darcy’s thighs start trembling on either side of his face. She brings her hands up to her breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching at her hard nipples as he plays her body. She’s getting close, her cunt tightening up around his fingers. He rolls his tongue against her clit, pressing down on her lower belly, over her g-spot, at the same time. That’s all she can take, pleasure surging through her as her orgasm hits her. She cries out his name, one hand dropping from her chest and tangling tightly in his hair. He rumbles at that, making her shake even more under him.

When he pulls back, once she stops trembling at her cunt stops pulsating around his fingers, his eyes are dark and the lower half of his face is wet from her. It makes her breath catch all over again. She’s just come spectacularly on his tongue, but the need inside her still rises at the look on his face and at how he’s very obviously hard against the front of his jeans.

“Come here,” she says, voice raspy as she reaches for him. He crawls up her body, the heated look never leaving his face. She drags nails down his torso making him hiss and press his hard cock against her belly. She fumbles with his zipper, not willing to take her eyes off his face, not when he’s looking at her like that. She finally manages to shove his jeans and boxers down over his hips, wrapping her hand around his hard cock.

Brock hisses her name, eyes briefly closing at her touch. “I don’t have much control for teasing right now,” he says, voice a deep rumble. 

“Then take these off,” Darcy says, finger tugging at a belt loop. 

Brock gets up long enough to shove his jeans and boxers to the floor, and Darcy stands right after, pressing their bare bodies together as she kisses at his chest and throat. She pushes him back gently, and he lets her, falling gracefully back until he’s sitting on the couch, looking up at her with desperate eyes and idly stroking his hard, leaking cock. She grins and saunters toward him, very gratified at the way his heated eyes travel over her body. 

Darcy straddles his thighs, his cock hard and flushed between them. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and kisses him again, pressing her chest to his. His hands immediately come up to rest on her hips, holding her against him as he turns the kiss absolutely filthy. She rocks against him, his hard cock pressed against her belly, making him hiss her name. 

Darcy can’t wait any longer. She lifts herself up and reaches a hand between them, stroking him a few times before positioning him at her entrance. His hands are tight on her hips, like he wants to pull her down and is making himself wait. She lowers herself slowly onto him, the fat head of his cock parting her labia and sinking into her. She whimpers, holding herself there for a moment. It’s been a while since she’s had anything this big in her and she needs a second. He doesn’t force her down, just keeps his hands on her tight enough to bruise (she’ll savor those bruises later).

“You all right?” he asks, his voice rough.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice breathy. She’s gripping his shoulders tightly. “It’s just been a bit.”

“Take your time,” he says, pressing a kiss to her chest.

She nods and slowly lowers herself, savoring the stretch. She’s a big fan of being overly full, of feeling like she’s taking something thick enough that her body is forced to make room, and he’s just the perfect fit for her.

“God,” she groans, eyes fluttering shut as she settles completely onto him, his cock completely sheathed within her. His hands spasm on her hips as she starts to rock in his lap, getting used to his size.

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to her breasts, the perfect height for it with her straddling him like this.

“Mm, so do you,” she says. 

She raises herself higher before sinking down, making both of them hiss. She moves faster, bounces higher on his cock as she gets used to his girth, until they’re moving fluidly together. Brock has his hands under her thighs, helping her fuck herself down on his thick cock. He’s making low noises deep in his throat, like they’re yanked out of him every time she clenches around him or grinds against him or drops down onto him. 

Brock’s staring up at her in a way no one has before, like he’s enraptured by her. Her thighs are starting to shake as she rocks against him, taking him as deeply as she can. She hasn’t done this in a while and isn’t quite as strong as she used to be. Brock leans up, pressing a kiss to the underside of her jaw. 

“I’ve got you, princess,” he murmurs, then he’s fucking up into her, fingertips digging into her thighs as he pulls her down onto his cock. 

Darcy hopes his walls are thick because she doesn’t even have a word for the kind of wail she lets out, tits bouncing with the force of his thrusts. She’s grasping at his shoulders, letting out uncontrollable gasps and moans of pleasure. He drops a hand between their bodies, fingers fluttering against her hard little clit. Her body starts to tighten, her second orgasm building within her.

“B-Brock,” she gasps, rocking as best she can into his thrusts.

“That’s it,” he rumbles, biting at her breast, making her breath hitch. “Just let go.”

Darcy can’t find the words to tell him she’s close, but he seems to be able to tell from her little whimpers, from how she buries her face in his throat, mouthing and nipping at his skin. He moves quicker, murmuring words she can only halfway hear, then she’s shaking apart on top of him, cunt clenching around his thick cock. She’s never made a sound like the guttural moan she lets out as her orgasm crashes through her in waves. But that’s fair, it’s also never felt quite like this when she’s had sex before.

Brock curses under his breath, his pace stuttering as he gets close. She clings to him, letting him use her body to chase his pleasure. 

“Birth control’s covered,” she manages to gasp out. “You can come inside me.”

“Fuck,” Brock says, then he’s slamming up into her, pulling her down until he’s completely inside her. Then his thick cock is jerking as he empties himself deep inside her, and god she loves that feeling. She shudders on top of him, running hands up and down his arms and chest, pressing kisses to this throat a jawline while he shakes through his own orgasm.

His hands leave her waist, one arm wrapping around her back, keeping her close. His other hand trails up her side before resting at the back of her neck, thumb rubbing circles over the soft skin there. She sighs against him, placing a light kiss on the column of his throat before pulling back just enough to rest her forehead against his. Brock nudges his nose against hers before pressing his lips to her, sharing slow, lazy kisses as he softens inside her. 

“Do you have anywhere to be tomorrow?” he asks against her lips.

She hums, trying to think, before saying, “Nope.”

“Mmm.” Brock kisses her again. “Stay tonight.”

She doesn’t even have to consider it before answering. “Hmm…” He presses a kiss to her jaw, to her throat. “Okay, twist my arm.”

Brock brings her upstairs to his bedroom, which she barely gets a glance at because she’s gently tossed onto his bed and his face is buried between her thighs again, the scruff of his stubble rough against her inner thighs. 

It’s at least two hours later that he’s pulling her into a hot shower, carefully washing between her thighs before his hands wander over her soapy body. After, when they’re clean and sated, they crawl between his sheets, settling with Brock on his back and Darcy lying half on her side and half on his chest.

“Okay, now I’m glad I didn’t paint your face. I do not want the yeast infection from face paint vagina,” Darcy says. Brock laughs.

“That wasn’t actually my plan for tonight,” Brock says as they lie together, his arm around her upper back, holding her to him.

“No? Your plan wasn’t to fuck me on your couch between trick-or-treaters?” Darcy says.

Brock flicks her. “Brat,” he says, making her snort. “No, I’d planned on a nice Italian dinner and nice Halloween to prove that I’m not just a meathead who only cares about the gym and sex.”

“I didn’t think that, for the record,” Darcy says. “But you just couldn’t control those carnal urges, eh? That’s okay, me neither. My goal wasn’t to put out on the first date, but I’m not exactly crying that I have failed that goal.”

“You won’t hear me complaining, princess,” Brock says.

“You know, if anyone else called me that, I’d kick him in the nads,” Darcy says. “But the way you say it just makes me want to jump your bones.”

“I’m not 20 anyone, my bones need a couple hours before being jumped again,” Brock says.

“That’s fine, you look comfy to sleep on.”

And to think, YouTube got her laid.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com).


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